October 2007

I thought about making my own superhero. Super Rack. Super Rack is a good kind of superhero. He can fly. He can climb up buildings and trees. He can swim underwater for a really long time. He is very very very very powerful. He helps people. That's how I thought about making Super Rack.

Before we made the costume, I made this poster with all the clothes of Super Rack that I needed to make. I changed them a lot, like at first I thought Super Rack was wearing a red shirt and pants. But then I thought it should be black. And the belt in the picture is brown, but I made a red one. The poster helped me make the costume.

When I was making the mask I did not know yet about Super Rack and who
he would really be. I thought I wanted him to wear a mask, but I didn't
want to wear a headband AND the mask. So I'll save the mask for another time. Maybe another halloween.

I got some of the costume from my dress up - like the cape that mama made a long time ago. And the pants I sewed to be wetsuit pants in the summertime. I went to Salvation Army with Papa to get the black shirt. And I made the belt and the headband on the sewing machine.

This is Super Rack in his full costume. And today is Halloween! Happy Halloween!

As we leave a season in which so much of our time is spent out - with our selves and
our things scattered and in the open - we enter a new one in which we
are quite literally closer together, our space tighter and our things
nearer. We've been feeling the pull inside for a bit, and last week,
there was a bit of rearranging to reflect that. The kind of living - play and work - that we do changes
so very much from year to year and season to season at this point in
our family life, and so, therefore, does our space.

I carved out a little space for the playthings that are just now coming off the summer porch, where it's far too chilly now to play. The baskets will be pulled aside off the hearth once the wood stove really gets going for the season. Soon, I imagine.

So much watching and daydreaming happens right in front of those windows. Waiting for the birds, watching the leaves fall, and being surprised by visitors. With two little guys on the edge of reading by themselves (and one little girl who THINKS she can read All.By.Herself.) there's a lot more cozy, on the floor, snuggled up, solo reading happening here than we've ever had before.

And with the new nook came a new blanket. My sewing-for-pleasure time is limited at the moment, so this simple tied quilt was perfect. One little evening project for what will hopefully be a winter of cozy reading.

The Red Sox are in the World Series, which means two things at this house: one - the TV is out of the closet and we've got ourselves a brand new set of fancy-pants bunny ears; and two - there is about to be some serious knitting completed. Steve says I'm a playoff fan, and I can't deny that. I'm only interested when it gets close to the end. I moan and groan about the 500 thousand games (really, there are that many - I swear) that get them to this point, and then I jump on in when things get exciting. So, now I'm in...and excited. But man, those games can go on. And the commercials. Ugh. My hands need some busy work, and hats are perfect. With a worsted weight yarn, I can just about complete a hat in the course of two games, depending on how exciting the game is...and how much energy I put into my ice cream.

This would be the Playoffs hat for Calvin (he chose the colors from my stash). Doubling up on the yarn, it made for a really thick hat (this was the desired effect, thankfully). It's based on the pattern in Last Minute Knitted Gifts. He asked for the ear flaps -"but no pompoms, Mom". Ack. When did he get too big for pompoms?

(Thankfully, he's not too big for playing camera with me - this one was his idea.)Last night was Game One (and a very good start, at that), and therefore, yarn winding, guage swatching, and casting on for the next hat. Everyone in this house needs a new winter hat, and I'm relying on the Red Sox (and the bunny ears) to get me there. So hey - Go Sox!

Oh, Etsy. Etsy, Etsy, Etsy. How my love for you continues to grow. Right now I'm enjoying these recent from-Etsy goods. First, this linen patchwork scarf that I LOVE and never want to take off, from my dear friend's brand new Etsy shop, my cabin door. The linen she uses is so soft, and I adore her fabric combinations. She's great at the color thing - (which makes for excellent company while fabric shopping, as a bonus).

I happened upon Toni's blog and shop update at just the right moment a few weeks back to snag myself one of her adorable crochet acorns. And I'm in love with it. A crochet acorn? Bigger than life size? Come on now. Too much. The kids and I have been putting it in the middle of nearly every day's centerpiece of the table.

And then there's all the stuff I just admire, am inspired by, and think about bringing home with me. From top left, clockwise:

I'm so excited about the role Etsy will play in my holidays this year - even more so than last year (can you believe how much is out there now?!). I'm fairly confident that in addition to one particular local craft fair/art show, and a print run at my local photo shop, Etsy will be the only other place I need visit for holiday shopping. I'm pretty excited about that - there's support for independent artists, inspiration for me, and a unique handmade gift treat for the recipient. And my favorite - it takes the pressure off and prevents me from having a crazy, hectic holiday gift-making couple of months, saving the crafting energy for the projects most near and dear to my heart and my family. Ah, yes. Thank you for that, Etsy.

I received a copy of The Yarn Girls' Guide to Knits for All Seasons: Sweaters and Accessories for Men and Women a few weeks back. The style is what I would expect based on their past books - lots of accessible, modern, and mostly fast-knitting patterns. This latest book is full of knits for all year round - from sweaters to tanks and a few smaller things too - for both men and women. I was very excited to get knitting something in here.

Because I was in an instant-gratification kind of knitting mood, I went with a hat. From the book, it's the "Out of Retirement" hat, knit with Misti Alpaca Chunky from my stash. It knit up quickly, and seamlessly (well, actually there is a seam, but you know what I mean). Really - any wearable knitting pattern that knits up fast and calls for the use of a big ole' button? A winner, for sure.

Can I tell you how much I love this hat? No, really. I looove this hat. So much that I've been wearing it everyday nearly all day - even yesterday when it was (a very crazy) 75 degrees. Yup. I love this hat. It even warranted it's very own pair of fingerless mitts (knit from the pattern in Melanie' Falick's Weekend Knits). We're not going to talk about how many pairs of these I already have, or how ridiculous that might be, because the reality is that they just make me happy. And fingerless mitts and this new hat together? Makes me very happy. Bring on the real fall.

Thank you!!! You all totally rocked it with the Portsmouth recommendations, and I've decided that I will never go anywhere again without asking you first. Seriously. I printed off the comments and that was our guide! I could totally have a little love affair with Portsmouth. And I don't think Portland would mind - they're sisters, I'm convinced. Portsmouth was so beautiful, full of history and vibrancy, and just the right size for me.

For those who want the Portsmouth details - we had the treat of seeing Jen's work at Nahcotta Gallery and Abby's work at Three Graces Gallery. Both quite stunning. There was yummy food and drink at The Portsmouth Brewery. A picnic at Prescott Park and Strawberry Banke. And a stop for yarn at The Yarn Basket. A heavenly hour spent leisurely at River Run Books. The Friendly Toast - top on our list, sadly had such a wait that we just couldn't do it (we opted for sleeping in. sleep is good). And the Odd Showroom was closed all weekend - though, man, I stared at their fabulous window display of vintage and handmade goodness long enough willing them to open, but that didn't work.

At the viewing of Seven Sunny Days
(the whole impetus of our trip - to visit friends involved in the
tour), I had the distinct pleasure/horror of feeling like a complete
and total MOM while viewing thissegment
on wingsuits. You gotta check that video out. Calvin has already informed us that he'll "totally do that
when I'm a raft guide". Ezra says he'll do it "when I'm a teenager".
Great.

In the end, my favorite little moments are those we didn't plan or expect. Of course. They're the same kind of moments we get on date night, or early mornings at home before anyone else has risen. Or any other time we steal away a few minutes of time together - the little quiet moments of leisure and peace that keep the whole thing going. Sometimes they're hard to make happen in the busyness of family life, but oh - they are so worth it for the whole family. And for that, it was a perfect weekend.

Just two photographs I'm really loving right now. I'm hoping I can carry some of the concentration and focus that these convey to me - what little ones are so natural at - into the writing work I have ahead of me today.

And then...knocking on wood, and crossing all fingers and toes, Steve and I will have a
solo getaway this weekend to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. We're there to
catch a movie tour, but
I'm thinking all that extreme sports watching is going to need some
balance added with thrifting, gallery visiting, shopping, and eating
good food, don't you think? Oh yes. I know nothing in Portsmouth - any ideas out there?

There's this guy in my life who seems to be an expert on this thing called breathing. I think it has something to do with having spent so much of his life upside down in a boat under water. Or a plethora of other life details that have resulted in a pretty mellow guy.

I also just happen to have three little people around me all day, every day who - by nature of their beings - are also experts on said idea of 'breathing'.

And then there's my beloved ocean. Breath itself.

So when a crazy day - full of far more commitments than we're used to, and far too many expectations of what can be done in a day with three little ones - takes a wrong turn, and things start to fall apart? Despite my own inclination sometimes to: A - forge ahead against the grain and against all sense; or B - head home to fester the day away, I really need look no further than directly in front of me to find the answer when I've forgotten it. Stop. Breathe.

And with that - twitchy and bug-eyed, all commitments and plans are abandoned, and we drive straight to the beach. Without proper beach 'gear' or plan, we sit and play for hours until we find ourselves breathing again. Another lesson.

I grew up eating what most of us in this country were eating in the 70's and 80's. My sisters and I joke about the point - well into our teens - at which we learned you could bake a cake without a Betty Crocker box, or the discovery of lettuce other than iceburg. Oh, the food of our childhoods - The brands. The salt. The sugar. (and for me, like many others - the childhood ulcers, asthma, and allergies that went along with the diet). Oy. I remember clearly the moment when I was 13 years old and babysitting in another home -
and opened the fridge to discover shelves full of green stuff. I had no idea what any of it
was. But I knew I wanted it - needed it, in fact. Next came the discovery of an old, worn
and tattered Moosewood Cookbook that I opened like it was some sort of precious artifact (well, it is, really), and brought home with me to devour the unfamiliar words in the recipes. It was then - much to my parents credit - that I began doing my 'own' grocery shopping. Wandering around the natural foods aisle grabbing tofu and fantastic foods mixes - having no idea what to do with any of it, but knowing that it was a start. I've learned a lot about food since that point 20 (gulp) years ago, and I'm still learning a lot about food.
I can happily say that my fridge looks more like that one full of green stuff than I ever thought it would. Good food is important to me - important to my family. And the most basic - and yet, revolutionary - thing I've learned about food is how directly
it is linked to every sense of my health - of mind, body and spirit.

I've had these food memories and thoughts on my mind since receiving Shauna's book last week, and reading her story of finding the 'right' food for her. And today, I'm honored to be a stop on her virtual book tour for the release of Gluten-Free Girl: How I found the Food That Loves Me Back & How You Can Too. The book arrived last week - and I gobbled up the entire book in one day's worth of our adventures - sneaking reads whenever I could until I reached the end. You could say I devoured it - laughing and tearing up throughout it. Shauna writes from such an open and honest heart - the one we've come to know through her blog - and the result is a truly beautiful book.

And, you might be wondering, no we are not gluten-free. This is a book about food, love, health - the whole 'life' picture. The story of her path to wellness through food is so inspiring. And throughout the flow of her storytelling in the book, she weaves in information about Celiac disease, tips on living gluten-free, and an array of delicious-looking recipes. Anyone already living gluten-free - or just beginning that path - will surely find much in this book to add more beauty, joy and good food to their lives. And everyone else who reads it will
think a little differently about the food they eat, where it comes
from, how it is prepared...and the kind life in which it all happens.

This weekend we made the Curried Carrot Soup from the book. It was a big hit - sooo good and deep in
flavor, and so perfect for the fall evening in which we ate it, after a
long walk in the woods.

Nothing goes with fall foliage better than some handknits, don't you think? I cast on for this sweater less than a month ago, and finished it just this weekend. Clearly, the fall knitting mojo has hit. It was done just in time for my babe to wear it on what felt like the first real fall weekend.

The pattern is the Children's Neckdown Cardigan from Knitting Pure & Simple. I wanted the most classic of cardigans, and this pattern fit the bill. It's a pattern I could make over and over - smooth, easy, and rather a quick knit. I used Cascade Pastaza, so it's warm and soft (50% llama, 50% wool) and affordable. A bonus. The buttons I purchased just for this sweater on Etsy. And let me tell you - if you haven't discovered it yourself - that searching for such vintage bits and bobs on Etsy is a dangerous endeavor. (But oh-so-fun.)

My original - and rather ambitious - plan was to start with Adelaide and then make one for each of the boys to give as Solstice gifts. But since I'm absolutely terrible at keeping surprise gifts for longer than a day, she got it this weekend. No worries - now she'll be able to wear it all fall while I start the others. (More info on the hat here - knit just over a year ago, but fitting perfectly right about now).

I think she likes it. Or at least she totally knows how to work me
when she looks up at me with her sparkly baby blue eyes and asks, "Make
it, Mama?", knowing very well what the answer is. It's comparable to
the boys' proud declaration of "Mama made this!" to anyone who might
happen to ask (or not). They're a bunch of heart-melters, you know. And
they sooo have my number.

Instead of concert or movie-going yesterday, I opted for leaf peeping.
Oh, yes I did, and it was just the perfect day to do so. We had a glorious drive to a Fall Foliage party (thank
you Bob and Patrice for such a special day!). The trees are so gorgeous right now. At
the party, the sun was shining. The air was crisp. The company was such fun, and the food was plentiful. This morning, we all smell like campfire. Yes....perfect, indeed.

So, to fill my Maine blogger/photographer role that I've been neglecting this season with my complete lack of foliage shots thus far, today I bring you a little bit of Autumn in Maine.

I might as well admit it. I originally bought Apples for Jam : A Colorful Cookbook for the cover (see below - next to the cake!). Sight unseen - I ordered it entirely based on the cover photograph. Crazy, I know - but luckily in this case, it turned out to be a really good choice. With a staggering amount of recipes (200 to be precise); stunning photography and writing of food, family and life; as well as artwork by her children scattered about - I really like this book. Oh, and the whole thing is organized by color. By color. Oh, so visually dreamy. I don't think I've ever had a 'cookbook' I've looked at like this one.

The recipes (oh right. the recipes! it is a cookbook after all) are really good, too. They're simple in nature and construction - family food, if you will. And with a little tweaking here and there, I think a lot of these will find their way into our own family food repertoire. We started with a dessert - we happened to have everything it needed on hand, and well, desserts are always a good place to start, don't you think? With some butter and buttermilk from dear Dulsie, and the very last of our backyard blueberries of the season - it made for a super yum mid-day, early afternoon snack. We barely saved enough for Papa's arrival home from work. (But we did. We would never forget Papa with the daytime dessert making.) And yes...I do know that this makes perhaps recipe #4 that I've shared that involves a baked blueberry thing. Hmn. Well. I don't really know what to say about that. Blueberries are good!

Mix dry ingredients in a bowl. Whisk eggs until fluffy in another bowl, then add all wet ingredients. Mix dry and wet gently until combined. Spoon mixture into a 12x8x2 inch pan. Sprinkle blueberries on top. Bake for 25 minutes at 400 degrees. Cool in pan before cutting.

(Oh, and since writing this post, I've made the winter squash fritters from this book, too. Um. Soooo good.)

I've been keeping my eye out this summer for vintage clothing pieces to use in my small quilts. I hadn't had much luck until one fine day out thrifting with Jen, and then - bingo. All in one bag labeled - amazingly enough - 'vintage clothing pieces'. Well, then. Inside, I found a beautiful collection of just that - nothing entirely in one piece - all cut up already, which made it far less guilt-inducing for me to cut them up some more. There are some old, old pieces in here - lace, lots of undergarments, nightshirts, christening gowns - oh, lots of good stuff. Perhaps it's silly how much I treasure these old, leftover and discarded bits of oldness. But I do. And I've been waiting for the opportunity to use them.

And then this weekend, I did a quick photo shoot for a quilt project in book two. I had a very specific vintage sort of look in mind for Adelaide - my willing model (I pay my models in ice cream and kisses, by the way, and they haven't complained yet).

With only 20 minutes to spare before needing to rush out the door (that sunset light is creeping up on me these days!), I remembered these clothing pieces. I dug around for one leg of a woman's lace-edged undergarment (bloomers, I think, or maybe pantalettes) and with a quick snip and an elastic waistband added, I got just the look I was going for. (And yes, she's still wearing that vintage top - the one that sparked six months of smock making - now as a shirt).

In the end, I didn't end up even having Adelaide in the shot I got for the book (she still got paid - heavy on the kisses). But that didn't stop me from snapping away with her on the beach anyway. Babies. Beach. Vintage clothes. You know how I am. How could I stop myself?

Now you all know how it is that I get so very much done. I have a lot of help. He's good, isn't he? He's an amazing Papa, fabulous creative thinker and sounding board, perfect morning bed-peeler, and so very much more. Thanks for hosting him for the week - I think he liked it (enough that he's promised me he'll return in a month for my final deadline push). In the meantime, while I continue to work away on this manuscript, how about some back to normal crafts and a lot of photos around here for the month? Good, good.

The Creative Family was written almost entirely out and about - coffee shops, libraries, and anywhere else I could bum free wifi. But this second book - being primarily a craft book - has me running from cutting table, to sewing machine to computer constantly. And so home is where I'm writing, a couple of days a week. It is a lovely place to work, I will say. Home is good, but home is not without it's interruptions. Bless the man outside the door who creatively engages, plays, feeds and acts as goalie. But sometimes - one slips by him. Three, actually:

Calvin's interruptions usually involve sitting down quietly with me for a minute (they each have an ongoing project in my room for just such visits). And then...in the quietness of the studio and with the handwork of his embroidery, we have some really amazing chats about, well, life. Six year olds know a lot about life. Oh, yes they do. But then...sometimes he's also the bearer of the 'staff-splitting' questions (as we call them), such as, "Can I ride my bike without my helmet if I'm just going on the grass? I think Papa said I could." Uh-huh. Right.

Ezra - in the perfectly middle child way - first peeks through the keyhole of the door, then sneaks in (not so sneakily), standing in this little corner with a grin on his face until I acknowledge that he's there. At that point I'm usually met with a wonderful Ezra story, or a puzzle, or a question to ponder with much debate. Such as, "Mama. Would you rather be a pirate, or have a really really really big foot" Hmn...I'll think on that one.

Adelaide's specialty is a strong and fast push of the door open, a thundering of her usually naked body across the room to me, followed by a sweet, coy and hopeful (I swear those eyelashes are batting at me), "Milkey, Mama? Milkey? Now?" O-kay. If that doesn't work for her, she usually settles for a swipe on her way out the door of the size 50 knitting needles (really), chanting the pirate 'arghhh!' all the way.

Sometimes, I will admit, these little interruptions are frustrating, and working at home can be really, really hard on all of us. And I am eternally grateful for those moments when everyone is whisked away to the skate park, the woods, or to visit the grandparents and I can work in solitude. But sometimes? Working at home and all of it's many interruptions -
is amazing. Amazing and full of good little unexpected moments that inspire me, make me
laugh, and give me energy to keep going.

Thank You SouleMama readers!! For all of the kind, encouraging and touching responses that you've shared with me during my time here, as interim SouleMama. It is fulfilling on so many levels, to put words and thoughts and feelings out there to share with this community. I also get a greater appreciation for the effort and love that Amanda puts into this space. Not to mention the time she puts into her crafty creations, her books and, of course, her children. Well, perhaps I will mention that time. The many nights I crash into bed and fall asleep to the productive sounds of SouleMama, emanating from her studio. The corresponding mornings where I have the unenviable task of peeling her from the bed, before I leave for work, to spend her days with three growing, beautiful yet oft times, demanding children. Sometimes, even I don't know how she gets it all done. Maybe it's the power inducing combo of ice cream and wine. Maybe it's the children that sneak into her studio and perch on a chair just to chat with mama and "help" for a few minutes. I guess maybe it just has to do with love. She shares a lot of that (She doesn't share the ice cream).

I know this is an interesting chapter in our lives and we've heard from and been inspired by so many of you out here. For that I give a heart felt, Thank You.

At the banks of the river, they climb and laugh and play and make noise. I find myself staring into the current, mesmerized by the flow. Into, over, around and down. Unmercifully, to the sea.I float and it holds me, suspended on time. The water of my ancestors, evaporated into dust and rained down to us, filling pools and spilling down mountains. The very people that worked this river and looked into it's depths to see those before them.

The sounds of my children playing returns my attention and I warn them to be careful, the current is strong right here. They recognize it as a force to be respected and adjust their course. The present is where they live and I am happy to be here, in it, with them. Maybe one day they will look and see the reflections of the past and stare at them like I do. Now we walk the banks and swim in the pools and the kids look downstream and ask me what's around the bend. I haven't been down there before I tell them, but it looks beautiful. Let's go.

Bread is broken and torn as the gluttons chew, slurp and belch their way toward a surly contentment. By nature, a distrusting lot, they hover over their keep like vultures with an eye to the side ready to repel an enemy combatant or a fellow vying for extra scraps. They sleep. Heavy and loud but always, always with an ear to the ground, monitoring the perimeter.

Drawn to battle, like eels to water, trouble finds them quick and often. They fight and growl and gnash teeth, clashing metal and flesh in an enraged storm of natures most volatile child. Man.

When the opportunity to beat another does not present itself, they scrap each other. Naturally, they are brothers. Born into a competition of ancient, biblical proportions they are powerless to resist. But, as hard as they go at it, at no time are they more powerful, more invincible as when they fight back to back. Swords arching to defend the family against all that comes.

When things look bleak, their knees weakened and the end near, look closely, you'll see the most amazing thing of all. They are smiling.

Yeah. You guessed it. This is me on my hands and knees digging up the blueberry bush where I lost my wedding ring, earlier this summer. You're right, I know. I should have gotten it resized rather than wear it on my pinkie. That's behind us now and the blueberries are gone and here I am looking intently for my ring. Under the blueberry bush. Although, I think I might need a metal detector. The one Calvin made, by duct taping a refrigerator magnet to a stick, isn't working. Anyway...

As I type, she climbs on my back in an effort to regain my attention, that I so carelessly diverted, at 9:23p.m. on a Sunday evening. The attack is relentless and, at times, dangerous. The stools are stacked, carefully, in an effort to reach her intended target. Teetering precariously on one foot, she waits until conditions are favorable and leaps. She is not deterred by injury nor hampered by fear. She's two.

She keeps a running dialogue of her day as it occurs and she demands that you listen intently and respond, thoughtfully. If she senses a wane in your attention it is swiftly corrected with a two handed face grab into the forced eye to eye gaze.

When we're on the town she insists on holding my pinkie finger when walking. She isn't down with the whole hand hold. Not her style. Sometimes I'm supposed to be on the left. Other times I go on the right. Kinda like an accessory. It's certainly easier to accommodate than to fight the wee force of nature that is Adelaide.

She's got magic in her heart and will teach you how to find yours if you pay attention to her lessons.

. . . . . . . .

Greetings! I'm Amanda Blake Soule - mother of five, author of three books on family creativity, and editor-in-chief of Taproot Magazine. I live with my family in an old farmhouse in Western Maine where we raise animals, grow vegetables and make lots of things. I write about it all here on the blog. Thank you for visiting!